Judged
by UnguidedAngel
Summary: Duo contemplating his worth.. R&R please.


Well for all those who have read Judged by the Mask this is a story based around it. If you haven't read it, do, please. It's only 400 words long, and it'll most likely help you get this story a little more. 

Disclaimer - I don't own Duo Maxwell or any of the other Gundam Wing characters. Don't sue me, because one, I'm skint. Two, I can't afford it. Three, I'm broke. Four, I meant no harm. Five, I'm making no money from this, as if I could. Six, haven't you got enough money anyway? Oh yeah and Seven, I have no money. 

Warnings -Hmm.. None I can find 

**Judged by the Mask**

Burning wreckage. What a familiar scene. The odd shrill scream of a pilot before his life is ended. The adrenaline rush that comes with the impact of the explosion on a suit. The casual wondering if anyone was unfortunate enough to survive. Unfortunate? Did he really mean that? Yes, I guess he did. Shinigami looked out on the carnage he had caused, he knew what it was like to sit there and wish to have been killed like the rest while other's mourn over the loss, but the fates were never kind enough to grant his wishes. The breeze that blew through his open cockpit gave him a small amount of relaxation before the stench that was carried in by that same wind filled the air. The smell of burnt blood, the unmistakable smell of death. 

"Maxwell!... MAXWELL!.." Wufei said through the comm. link, trying to get some response from the braided pilot, but Duo still stared at the confusion of twisted metal infront of him. "Duo." A calmer voice called out to him and the chestnut haired boy turned to see Heero, "What is it Yuy?" He said coldly, the effects of being Shinigami throughout battle not yet subsiding. The perfect soldier looked blankly at him. "We're leaving now." He stated matter-of-factly before switching off their communications. 

The day had been long, he had put Shinigami away hours ago, and now the guilt had certainly set back in. Duo drew his gaze up to the other pilots as they all exited their suits. "The end of another hard day at the office" he joked. The other's didn't even cast him a glance, were they that used to him doing that? He would expect the perfect soldier, solitary dragon and the soldier with no name to ignore him. But the Q-man? He sighed inwardly. Was this it? Yeah.. This was his role in this war. He bounded over to the blonde, affectionately looping his arm around Quatre's shoulders. "Oh.. Hey Duo" Quatre gave him a wide smile in response before his usual concern set in. "Everything alright?" The braided pilot patted the youngster from L4 on the back affectionately "Yeah Q!" He stopped and looked around. "Not sure if we could ever say that about 'omae o korusu' boy over there." He turned back to Quatre and gave his best Heero-like scowl. Quatre, as expected, giggled and smiled at Heero, who in turn just shook his head and went back to repairing what little damage Wing had accumulated through their last battle. The blonde smiled and went back to working on Sandrock, Duo noticed how much care Quatre took over the machine that was practically a part of the boy's heart. 

Turning to face Deathscythe Shinigami nodded sadly, knowing fully well that his suit didn't need his care, The God of Death and his Deathscythe were completely linked, if anything was wrong with his suit he would know it. Like in much of the stories, death and his weapon were inseparable. He gave the suit a small smirk of mischief before moving to the Solitary Dragon's side. "Hey Wu-man!" He chimed loudly, making the shorter boy jump in surprise and hit his head against the metal of his beloved Nataku. After mumbling something about Maxwell being an idiot under his breath the Chinese youth turned to face the hyperactive boy. "What do you want Maxwell? I'm not in the mood for your games." Duo smirked and played on what the other pilot just commented. "Are you ever in the mood Wu?" Wufei scowled darkly at him. Before closing the gap and snarling. "Take your insecure rants elsewhere." The braided pilot blinked and stepped backwards slightly, Wufei had saw past his little charade? But what did he see behind it if that was the case? Even Duo didn't know what he was beyond the limits of his alter ego's, he never seemed to have a use for the one that wasn't the clown or Shinigami. 

He looked at the Chinese boy with a query etched over his face. Wufei just shook his head, knowing that maybe Duo didn't know what he was on about, but he had to find out for himself. He fiddled around with a few more screws before nodding his head in respect to his precious Gundam. After he had done this he turned back on the braided pilot. "I may be unsure of my role in this reality Maxwell.. But at least I admit it and try to deal with it with my dignity still in tact." He gave Duo another glance before retreating back to his quarters. 

Was he that easy to see through? Or maybe Fei just recognised himself within the braided pilot. Whatever it was had Duo thinking. Could he even be something over than the clown or god of death? Would this new person be accepted? Could Duo actually live being himself? Was there such a thing? He growled loudly, life was taking the piss out of him and not letting him in on the joke. He looked over the other three still in the room, even if Heero and Trowa didn't know precisely who they were, they seemed pretty content with who they are, why couldn't Duo feel that kind of satisfaction? He glanced at Quatre, who was now wearing a look of concern and flashed a reassuring smile toward him before stalking into the room that he and Wufei shared as space was limited within this new safe house. 

He often knew not to follow Wufei directly into the room, if he bothered him while he was trying to relax and speak to his dear Nataku his feared his life could surely be the price he paid. The strong scent of burnt incense was the first thing to hit Duo as he entered the room, it offered him some comfort and relaxed him lightly. Usually he was put up with Heero and he knew that 'Fei wasn't exactly used to the company yet, but having WuFei as a room buddy was a refreshing change from the insistent typing of Yuy on his damn laptop. The Chinese boy was already in his bed, letting the lingering smells of the incense lull him to sleep. Duo stripped down to his boxers and then placed a T-shirt on and climbed into his own bed, staring at the ceiling. He realised now that the Chinese youth was right, he was so insecure about himself, about who he was, where he was going and his role in this entire war. 

All his life it was as if he had made some pact with Death that he didn't even know about.. Everyone around him would die, everyone he cared for, yet somehow he always seemed to survive. It was as If he was immune to death itself, he guessed that was the exact reason why he started calling himself Shinigami, nothing would kill him, even when he wanted it to, which he often did. Even when he had physically commanded his suit to blow up and take his life with it, it never listened to him. Some tool of death. Duo huffed and looked at the ceiling some more. This was all there was to his life, life? I believe the word he was looking for was torturous hell. Which was basically where he was going anyway, may as well take as many souls as he could on his journey into darkness. An eternity of suffering, that's all fate really wanted to give to him, but at least fate was paying some attention to him. 

The rest of the Gundam pilots seemed to now have preconceptions about him, maybe they could see through him as easily as they softly sleeping boy in the room with him, but they chose not to say anything to him. Maybe it was because they felt that he was better off this way instead of the alone boy that he was sure was within him somewhere. He hadn't been that boy all that much over his life, he seemed pretty able to dig his way to the surface the day Sister Helen and the others died, but Shinigami quickly replaced him. He wasn't sure if he could feel like that anymore.. It would just be an alien feeling.. To be human. Closing his eyes, his mind crowded with thoughts of who he could've been and what he was, he slowly willed himself to an uncomfortable sleep. 

The next morning, was admittedly like any other. No one would allow Trowa to cook breakfast with a cold fear of being stuck with soup for the rest of their lives. The kitchen was bustling with life as Quatre and Duo made drinks up, Quatre making the perfect cup of tea while Duo squeezed juice, Heero and Trowa sat silently at the table while Wufei managed to prepare a humble yet for filling breakfast meal. Duo loved this time of day, it was like they were all at home, all their facades dropping a little, even in the case of Heero and Trowa, everyone seemed like the light-hearted teenagers they were meant to be. 

Duo kind of liked not being the joker.. Quatre was issuing his own jokes and cheering everyone up. He also didn't feel like the god of death had taking it's grip on his being either, maybe this is what the true Duo felt like. Maybe. He would never know, even Wufei was starting to gather that Maxwell was too used to being Shinigami and the clown to feel comfortable being himself, these were his security blankets, he had lived within them for years and now they had become a invaluable part of him. Protecting him for the darkest of death glares, the most guilt provoking screams, the anger driven nightmares. Both these masks helped him get through the day, he was never going to deny it. 

Without them he'd be nothing, he needed them for the security they provided, for the shielding they offered. As all of the Gundam pilots went back to their suits for routine checks, he seemed to have a revelation. Surely.. If he had such masks, the others did too.. And they all judged each other by the masks they had chose to show. 

_They were Judged by their masks_

_The Masks they created_

_Maybe it was better this way_

_Duo wasn't sure_

******* 

Owari. Well.. Review please.. A little short fic.. Say what you like about it. Thanks. 

~ The Unguided Angel 


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